Stand by me

A poem from Jo McFarlane

When I had been broken, in my knees, Silenced from the burden of dwelling, about the edge of giving up, a urge arrived from and deftly opened my voice by adhering, only listening. Shortly the cage turned into a secret, the phrases conducted free and expect took root in my own.

Collectively we unravelled All of the knots, Hunted clarity in breaking down the issue, place the jigsaw back together within a viable solution.

Ready today to voice my own eyesight To the physicians, physicians looking after mepersonally, I inquired my urge to stand with me like I still felt exposed and little, confronted with an amazing wall of skilled power.

We walked to the assembly, took our location.

My urge sat softly in my side, did not need to interject however because of its blanks in memory brought on by the haze of drugs.

We arrived into a solution That I believed I could take with grace. I did not get discharged as I’d expected but in the class of being listened to that my gaolers was my carers along with the treatment program proved to be a contract which enabled me.

By standing together with me about the trip

I made the ward shortly after along with my head held high Since the origins of assurance and hope She implanted in me had grown to a tree.